


Headless in the Riverlands

by Corporate_Blood



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), The Legend of Sleepy Hollow - All Media Types
Genre: ASOIAF geography is hard, Creepy Petyr Baelish, Crying, De-Aged, Engagement, F/M, Full Moon, Halloween, Heartbreak, Horror, Horseback Riding, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, Jealous Petyr Baelish, Jealousy, Manipulative Petyr Baelish, Minor Violence, One-Sided Attraction, Possible Character Death, Riverlands (ASoIaF), Riverrun, Scary Stories, Suspense, Swordfighting, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27168532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corporate_Blood/pseuds/Corporate_Blood
Summary: Brandon Stark, heir to Winterfell, was betrothed to Catelyn Tully of Riverrun.Petyr Baelish didn't like this.Not one little bit.
Relationships: Brandon Stark/Catelyn Tully Stark, Petyr Baelish/Catelyn Tully Stark
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

Petyr and the Tully children watched as the procession of House Stark made their way into Riverrun. Blackfish and the head of House Tully, Hoster Tully, greeted Rickard Stark. His three sons sat atop horseback as the heads of each house talked. Petyr noticed Cat’s gaze was upon the eldest son; Brandon. He was a man of twenty, tall and strong and as handsome as all the knights in the song’s Cat loved. Petyr took an immediate dislike to the man.

And the feelings were mutual, as Petyr found out soon into their stay.

Brandon and Cat were betrothed. The news was broken on the first night’s feast and it made Petyr sick. He didn’t eat much that night and Lysa fussed over him, wondering if he were ill and if he should see the maester. Petyr brushed her concerns aside and went to bed early that night.

Since then, he’d been thinking of ways to best remedy this situation. He’d stuck close to Cat’s side, ‘stumbling’ across the two of them no matter where they retreated to for some privacy. Brandon had taken to calling Petyr Cat’s “shadow” or “other brother”, something that angered Petyr but he wouldn’t give the Stark the satisfaction of showing it. Edmure got along with Benjen, the two of them hyping Brandon up. The other Stark, Ned, was quiet and tried to keep the peace. Lysa seemed to be as sour about the whole affair but she hadn’t come up with any plans to change the direction of things.

Petyr, meanwhile, had.

* * *

The seven of them were gathered around the harth one evening, just talking. Petyr had been listening and waiting for the perfect opportunity. There was a lull in the conversation and that was when he chose to speak up.

“Have any of you heard of the headless one?” He asked. Of course, blank stares were thrown his way and so he continued. “It is said that a headless horseman roams the Riverlands each night. He scours the land, looking for a replacement head.”

“Sounds like one of Old Nan’s tales,” Brandon scoffed. “Are you sure he’s atop a horse and not a giant spider?” Edmure and Benjen laughed at this. 

Petyr’s eyes narrowed before he smiled. “Only the bravest face him and only the best swordsmen survive an encounter. Why, I had a run-in with him not a year ago.” 

“You? You’re but a twig of a boy and green with it,” Brandon laughed. 

“Then you shouldn’t have a problem with him,” Petyr returned.

Brandon dismissed this with a wave of his hand. “I haven’t got time to waste on childish nonsense.”

But Petyr pressed on. “He’s connected to the moon, his strength growing with the lunar cycle, till it peaks at a full moon.”

“It’s a full moon tonight,” Cat breathed.

Petyr’s grey-green eyes met the pure grey of Brandon’s. “Indeed it is.”

Everybody stilled and glanced at Brandon. Silence reigned for a moment, the soft crackling of the fire and their quiet breathing the only other sounds. The man’s rumbling laughter spilt from his mouth as he rose to his feet.

“Come then, boy, show me the location on the map,” he said. Petyr smiled again and stood. The walked away from the others and over to a nearby table. The map of the whole Riverlands was unfurled and Petyr pointed out some fields halfway between Atranta and Stone Hedge. “Challenge accepted,” Brandon said, slapping the boy hard on the back. Petyr jolted forward from the blow but kept his balance and merely smiled up at the man.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so Brandon sets out to wait below the full moon...

And so there Brandon was, mounted atop his steed in a wheat field in the dead of night. Atranta was to his right, Stone Hedge to his left. He grasps the reins tightly in his left hand, his freshly sharpened sword raised in his right. The clouds above slowly shift to reveal the bright moon and shining stars as midnight draws closer. The wind stirred, playing with his hair, and chilling him. He wrapped his cloak closer as he waited a little longer. He’d already been there for roughly twenty minutes with no sign of life, normal or otherwise. Evidently, he was only going to annoy the local lord and smallfolk with his presence. With a shake of his head, he turned his horse around to begin his ride back to Riverrun.

A burst of cackling laughter was heard from behind him. He jumped in the saddle, halting the horse. As much as he loathed to admit it, the eerie laughter sent a shiver down his spine. He twisted to find the source of the sound. 

There, stood in the direction Brandon had just been looking, was a man. The leather doublet the man wore was made of simple leather, no house colours or sigil made obvious. The collar was pulled up high and the man’s head was not seen. A blood-red riding cloak flowed behind him and over the shadow dark horse he was atop of. 

Brandon swung his horse back around to face the other man. “Come then Petyr, let’s fight!” He calls. The two charge, each sword raised, and it was just like the countless jousts he had taken part in. However, this strange horseman wasn’t looking to play games. His sword swung straight for Brandon’s head, eager to slice straight through his neck. The blade glowed in the moonlight and he bent his spine backwards to duck beneath the swing. They ran past each other and alarms began to ring inside his mind. He halted his horse and repositioned as was his instinct at the end of a tilt. “Alright, what’s the big idea?” He demanded. The horseman charged again and Brandon barely had time to block the next swing.

The swings had such power behind them, and the blades clashed violently, almost wrenching the sword out of Brandon’s grasp. “Petyr!” He called again. “Edmure! Benjen!” In desperation, he called out “Ned!” but to no avail. The horseman didn’t answer, didn’t tire. He cared not for the open guard of Brandon’s torso, or the easy target of the horse. Even Brandon’s blocks seemed to be a mild inconvenience. His nerve was gone like never before and the Stark managed to push the blade away, giving enough space to get his horse to gallop onward. 

They raced across the field, hooves tearing up the soil and mud and freshly planted seeds. It was a straight shot across, the horseman behind him all the while, as they crossed the field’s border and continued on into the forest. Low hanging branches scratched at Brandon’s face while thickets snagged his cloak. He urged his horse onward, not daring to slow down for even a second as he heard the blade whistling behind him as it slashed at the air in near misses. A thin, well-worn dirt road was their only way through, the headless one always behind them. A slope heading down further into the forest suddenly sprang up to his left and he wrenched the reigns left. They disappeared from the path, the beast galloping on ahead further as they missed the turn. Brandon’s horse nearly lost its balance but recovered and kept on going once the ground flattered out again. Despite himself, Brandon looked back to the top of the slope.

In a single bound, beast and man were flying through the air, covering the distance and landing right behind Brandon, seamlessly once again giving chase. Half remembered words drift to the front of his mind; “Should the headless man spy you, you best get to the other side of running water. Tumblestone is your best bet - if you can make it,” Petyr had told him. Several times more he tried to shake the headless horseman but it was just a waste of energy. His horse was panting and foaming at the mouth from the exertion, the shadow dark horse had no such problem. It was a small mercy the path was still thin, trees crowded it from either side, as Brandon didn’t like his chances of a high-speed sword fight. On and on he galloped until finally, _finally_ , Riverrun came into view. 

Relief washed over him but to truly get away he had to cross the river Tumblestone. And now that the path had widened and the headless one urged his horse to pull alongside Brandon. That blade was once again looking to chop off his head, his own sword barely raising in time to block the strike. He dared not push his horse any harder for fear that it would die of exhaustion under him. Instead, he had to trust his beast to ride the correct way as his focus was on the sword fight. The blades sang as metal struck metal. Suddenly, the headless one wrenched his reigns left, crashing the shadow dark horse into the gelding. Brandon’s leg was crushed and he yelled in pain whilst blindly wrestling for control before his horse toppled over. His guard was dropped and the headless one’s blade managed to nick across his nose. Blood spurted forward, some landing in his mouth. He spat it straight at the headless horseman, chancing a glance forward. 

The flowing waters of Tumblestone were but a few feet away. He returned his own slashes, hoping to hack off the other’s sword hand. Releasing his right foot from the stirrup, he kicked as hard as he could at the other horse’s side. A deep bellow sounded from the creature and the headless one lashed out with one last sword thrust, tearing into Brandon’s cloak as his gelding jumped across the river. The landing was rough, the horse’s back legs splashed into the river, but they managed to scramble up the bank. Both of them were completely exhausted and on the verge of collapsing. His sword hung limply at his side and he glanced back.

On the other bank, the headless one stood furious. His horse snorted, hot puffs of red steam pouring from its nostrils as it pawed the ground. The rider let out that cackle of his, icy fear pooling in Brandon’s stomach. From nowhere, he summoned a pumpkin. A hideous face was carved into it, the hollowed insides hosting a lit candle. He launched the pumpkin over, it let out horrific shrieks as it flew through the air. Brandon tried to flee but it was to no avail and his own screams rang out into the night when the flames engulfed him too.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after reveals strange things...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween! Stay safe out there ^_^

The next morning, as most of the Riverlands were settling down to break their fast, three things were found along the banks of Tumblestone not too far from Riverrun. Brandon’s sword, a smashed pumpkin, and a dead horse all laid in the grass. Orders were given to search the surrounding area but there was no sign of Brandon. Messages were carried by raven to the other lords, commanding them to search their own lands. Nothing. 

Rickard was deeply unhappy and an emergency meeting was called. Hoster Tully, Blackfish, and Rickard Stark spoke for a very long time before the children and the Tully ward were questioned. 

“What happened last night?” Lord Stark asked.

Benjen was the first to speak up. “Petyr told a stupid story and challenged Brandon to leave the castle in the middle of the night to fight this spirit.”

Lord Stark’s stern expression turned towards Petyr. “Is this true?”

“I made up a story to entertain and scare us, my lord. I meant no harm.”

“And yet Brandon is missing.”

“Brandon is five years the boy’s senior, with twice the height and muscle,” Blackfish pointed out. “Petyr could no more harm a fly than he could Brandon. Even if he tried, Brandon would slice him in two.”

“I have already questioned both our household guards and all the servants in Riverrun - no one left their beds, not even Petyr,” Hoster said. “Brandon was the only one unaccounted for.” All the children nod to confirm this. However, it was Ned’s nod that seemed to sway Rickard. 

* * *

It wasn’t too long after when the heavy-hearted Starks packed up their belongings and began the long ride back to Winterfell. Brandon’s sword had been tucked in cloth carefully and kept safe for the journey. For some months, correspondence was made between the two houses to renegotiate the engagement. However, in the end, House Stark called it off altogether, fearing the loss of yet another son. 

Petyr, upon hearing of this, snuck down to Cat’s chambers. The door was already slightly ajar and he pushed his way in. Soft sobs came from the girl four years his senior as she sat on the bed away from him. He walked around the bed, his footsteps alerting her to his presence. 

“Have I won?” He asked, fixing her with a smile.

Her eyes were red and puffy, mouth falling open in slight shock. Her mind scrambled for the right words to say as he stood there, waiting expectantly. 


End file.
